manunderstress.com

Man::Under::Stress is now complete with ironic advertising from Google Adsense. I just love how a post railing against “fair trade” results in ads for fair trade coffee. Revenue to date: 0.00USD. My goal: one dollar per month.

Leprechaun in Mobile, Alabama (thanks, Alex).

NYT on the phenomenon of the beard:

On city streets, too, trends in scruff have reached new levels of unruliness, a backlash, some beard enthusiasts say, against the heightened grooming expectations that were unleashed with the rise of metrosexuality as a cultural trend. Men both straight and gay, it appears, want to feel rough and manly.

Since shaving my beard of 2 years last September, I can safely say, beards are so 2005. The ironic mustache however, is making a comeback.

It must be something deeply rooted in human nature that pushes us to cooperate, despite how much we completely despise one another on the surface. How else do you explain those tattered homeless dudes that spontaneously appoint themselves traffic cop at locations inexplicably deemed in need of order? Indeed, three times in the last week I have come across someone who clearly possessed no authority, exerting very authority-like behavior. Waving, motioning, pointing, directing; these public servants eagerly assisted a world that needed them. At a traffic accident, in a parking lot, and on the side of the road, they bravely battled public panic and disorder, whether they existed or not. When the muttering hooded guy with various plastic bags waved me out of the parking lot and onto Edgewood Ave, I just smiled and dutifully waved thanks. How would I have done it without you.

This guy is out around Leidseplein in Amsterdam all the time. Last time we were there I’d pass him almost everyday walking around, and always pause for a few moments to check it out. Freaky talent.

What is it with Scientology that draws so much attention? Granted, new religions, like “fresh” wines, may reek dubious fumes, but they do have to have a beginning, don’t they?

We instinctively respect Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews and their non-violent variants without question, no matter how wacky their beliefs or interpretation of ancient texts. But Scientology is consistently lampooned by cultural institutions and the media as being the cult religion du jour for celebrities, something modern and reeking of inauthenticity. But are the ancients more plausible just because they weren’t created by a science fiction writer? Funny neckties aside, why does a carpenter have more credibility? I’m not making a case for Tom Cruise, who is clearly insane with or without religion, but it’s an odd world we live in that endorses and legitimizes it’s gods so arbitrarily. Really, who cares? The creation myth of Scientology is pretty hilarious with all it’s aliens and stuff, but a good close look at the creation myth of any religion should leave any reasonable person in tears in a matter of minutes. I say the more the merrier. Religions, like political parties, just create more cultural diversity, while unintentionally providing more entertainment for the rest of the post-Enlightenment segment of the world population.

That said, perhaps it’s time for traditionalists to take the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and other DIY religions more seriously. If your religion is inspiring you to burn down embassies, or protest the funerals of gay soldiers, then maybe it’s time for something new. After all, there are plenty of them to choose from, and some will actually let you enjoy your time on Earth. If you don’t like any, create your own. The sky is the limit. Think about it.

I didn’t know that Exploding Head Syndrome was actually a named psychological phenomenon until now. Or is it physiological? (Or, is there really a difference?) It happens when you are on the verge of falling asleep, or have recently fallen asleep, and you awake to an imagined bang, or explosion type sound. Ah, that thin line between reality and our perception of it. But the other night I was sleeping and had a bizarre hallucination where it felt like someone landed on my bed. That one wasn’t so cool. I flopped out of bed like a fish in a puddle, scanning the room for my invisible nemesis. Is there a name for this one?

This short film about Myspace had me howling. The first two skits are are hysterical (not according to Corbett).

Also, Demetri Martin, a new Daily Show dude, did a hilarious piece on Myspace the other night. “Dr. Smallbeard” killed me…

The Pew Center’s most recent poll on happiness concludes that Republicans are the happiest of all Americans.

One way to find out is by way of a statistical technique known as multiple regression analysis, which gauges the relationship between each factor and happiness while controlling for all the other factors. That analysis shows that the most robust correlations of all those described in this report are health, income, church attendance, being married and, yes, being a Republican. Indeed, being a Republican is associated not only with happiness, it is also associated with every other trait in this cluster. Even so, the factor that makes the most difference in predicting happiness is neither being a Republican nor being wealthy – it’s being in good health.

Err, if “happiness” is going to consist of a community of wealthy Republican bible-bangers, then please God make me unhappy.

Came across this on the Myspace FAQ:

Q. Someone is pretending to be me what do I do?

A. In order to verify your identity, please send us a “salute”. This means we will need an image of yourself holding a handwritten sign with the word “MySpace.com” and your Friend ID (your Friend ID number appears immediately after “friendID=” in the web address/URL when viewing your profile). We can then remove the profile that uses your identity without your permission. Please be sure to include the web address/URL to the profile in question when you send your salute. If you do not have a profile on MySpace please just include the current date instead of your Friend ID. You can contact us here.

Hilarious. Now me, I prefer you to send me a naked picture of yourself with the words “It’s really Me!” written across your bare naked chest in goat’s blood (or nutella, if you prefer). That’s the only way I can tell it’s really you. Now for myspace, I would recommend that you find your illegitimate doppelgangers and terminate them, Terminator style. That is the only plausible way to guarantee that identity theft won’t reoccur…